Page 64 of Soulmates
I lock my grip around his upper arm. “Only if you want David dead. If we wait for backup, we’ll be able to take them all down.”
“Now bring in the form,” the first voice says, dragging our attention back to the screen.
“Fuck. They’re going to cut him out of the pack.” Trajan braces himself as if he’s ready to run in there and make it stop.
I recall enough werewolf lore to know that cutting someone out of the pack only takes a brief ceremony with a quorum. David jerks his legs against the brackets holding them in place, trying and failing to thrash his arms. If they say the words and force him to sign, he’ll be a lone wolf.
“No.” He cries out, terror strengthening the sound.
His uncle starts up again. “And so we are bound by a force stronger than death. Who here answers my call?”
From around the room there’s a chorus of “I hear.”
David groans. I focus on him. He’s making a pitiful effort to open his swollen eyes, as if even now, he’s trying to see his enemies.
“Our mother the moon sees all and knows all, and with her as witness, I move to set this child apart from her light. If any object, this is your last opportunity to speak.”
Silence, except for the rustling and breathing of excited men, and the “no, no, no, no, no,” David can’t suppress. One were slides a mundane office clipboard under David’s hand, and the other forces him to clutch the pen, forces his hand to move.
A sharp snap, as if someone had cracked a whip in the center of the room.
“That’ll do.”
David is not moving. At all.
“You don’t look so good, Davey. I hear that getting cut out of the pack hurts like hell.”
This is a new voice, familiar and mocking. I scroll over to focus on the speaker. “He’s dead,” Trajan whispers. “I’m going to kill that son of a bitch and enjoy doing it.”
“It’s all right, though,” the same were continues. “If Daddy doesn’t step down as Alpha in the next four hours, you’re gonna be so dead it won’t even matter.”
“Step down as…” Rocking his head from side to side, David giggles, then outright laughs. “You’re a dead man walking.”
The were backhands David, hard, knuckles and a fat ring cutting his lip. “Dead,” Trajan says again.
“You’re in no place to start spouting threats, son.” Uncle Brendan waves a quelling hand at the were with the ring.
David spits a wad of blood and saliva in the direction of his voice. “It’s not a threat, babe. One of us is going to kill you.”
They hit him with the prod one more time, punishing his defiance, and then they file out. I wait until I’m sure he’s alone and bring the phone close to my mouth. Again, I avoid Trajan’s gaze, but this time, it’s because I’m afraid of what I’ll see in his face.
“David?” I have the chip directed as close as I can get to David’s face. His eyes are closed, and he doesn’t respond, so I turn up the volume. “David?”
He jerks, gives a cough, but doesn’t open his eyes. Maybe he can’t. They’re pretty swollen.
“David.”
He rocks his head from side to side.
“David, it’s me. It’s Connor. I’m with Trajan.” I find I’m leaning forward, speaking directly into the phone.
“Yeah.”
I’m not completely sure he’s formed an actual word. “Hang in there, David. We’re coming in.”
He’s breathing harder. Watching his struggle is painful.
“Too late.” He sounds lost.
